Morning Stars
by Damien-Damien
Summary: Have a peek into the lives of the children of Wammy's House. Take a brief glance, or a longer look. Who knows what you might see? Warnings posted per chapter.
1. Prologue

_Oh, hello there. Almost didn't see you come in. Hehe...that's just a joke; of course I saw you. But there's not much else to do when you're dead, see, so I do enjoy playing with the heads of the few who come to visit._

_How did I know you were here without looking? Well, if you'd pay even the slightest attention to your surroundings, you would see I've a multitude of cameras placed around. Yes, yes; I understand that having cameras everywhere is a bit useless. Not like anyone can attack me if I'm dead. Old habits die hard, though, and I am rather accustomed to being able to see all around myself. Never know when someone might try to pull a fast one on the almighty L, you see._

_What's that? I'm not L? Hmph. Well, I daresay your parents seem to have wasted their money paying for your schooling, seeing as you don't seem to have a lick of sense about you. Now, why do you say I can't be L? Hm? Is it because I'm dead? Or do I just not look the part?_

_Black hair, and a pale complexion, hm? Well, I have been told I'm rather pale, but I was born a blond, and died a blond. Male, and a fascination with sweets? Ah, I see; you must have met young Lawliet! He was my successor, you see._

_Oh, what's with that look on your face now? Surely you didn't think Lawliet was the original L. Oh, no no no, he was far too young for that. If he were the original L, why, he'd have to be well over a hundred by now. You see, the original L was Laurence Wammy. He founded Wammy's House on his thirtieth birthday, back in the 1850s. In those days, the children who turned fifteen before the current L retired or was killed, along with those who were unable to take on the title when it did come time for a replacement, were trained to be religious figures, such as priests or nuns. Nowadays, the children are allowed to follow their talents if they don't show promise to become L, but the old practices still come through a bit. For example, it is a long-standing requirement for all the children to attend services every Sunday morning until they turn twelve. Then, if they don't wish to go anymore, they can find something else to pass the time with._

_Oh, now I've gone off track, and you still look confused. Why? What don't you understand now? ..... Why was Lawliet's first name listed as L in volume 13 if he wasn't born with the name? Well, I won't pretend to understand what you mean by that, but when the successor takes on the title of L, they discard their given name and simply use L and whatever their last name might be. For example, I was born Trula Richter, but I did not use that name from the age of 11, when the L before me died of a particularly nasty infection. Trula died that day, and L Richter was born. So I suppose if whatever this 13 you're speaking of said Lawliet was named L, perhaps our taking of the title becomes much more literal than we realize._

_Don't believe me, hm? Well, you're a very lucky one indeed, then, because my little corner of the afterlife has given me whatever I wish for. I've always regretted not being able to be a mother, and so I have a little pond over here that I can watch the Wammy's children in. I've always felt a bit of affection akin to what I think a mother might feel towards the orphans, so I like to look into it now and again. I can even see any time in particular I wish. This might be what some people call Heaven while they are alive, but I don't think it quite is. If it were, I should think I'd have some kind of incarnation of actual children I could have had, rather than just the shadows of what never was to stare at for all eternity. Ah, well. You want my proof that I am who I claim to be, yes? Well, then, let's get started. Where would you like to look first? My birth? No, that would be a rather...messy affair. The death of my parents was the first thing I watched after discovering what my pond was for, and I'd rather not see it again. I could show you Lawliet's childhood. How does that sound? There was a hallway in the branch of Wammy's House I was raised in that hung paintings of all who had called themselves L, so you should be able to see my likeness there. I'm not certain, though; I rarely visited the Houses after taking the title, so I never saw if the one in Winchester had the paintings as well._

_You really should understand that your L was not the most important person in the world, and he never was. There were better Ls before him, and I'm sure there will come to be better Ls now that he's gone. Hm? Don't say that to a fangirl? Why must you keep talking of these things that make no sense whatsoever; honestly. Well, fine then. If you think he's so important, then I'll start with the Numbers. That's where he came in, after all. Don't delude yourself into believing he was the first, though; oh no. There were a good two or three who came before Lyle Lawliet arrived._

* * *

Okay, dearlings. Know that this story will be taking massive amounts of artistic liberties. There'll be plenty of contradictions to the series, I'm sure. I'm going to be trying a different style than what I'm used to for this, so if it comes off rather odd, forgive me.

Chapter lengths will vary in here. Some will be full-length, most will be drabbles. They won't be posted in any particular order, either; but they'll be dated so you can put together a timeline if you want.

I don't own Death Note. Any and all recognizable characters belong to Ohba and Obata. Any non-recognizable characters are my own creations, so please don't take them and use them in your own works unless you ask me first.


	2. May 13, 1978

Large blue eyes blinked, looking around the never-ending grounds. The building standing before the child was enormous, and she nervously stuck a knuckle into her mouth to chew. An older man, past his prime but yet to be completely gone, chuckled, giving her hand a tug. "Come along, Ada. You'll have all the time you need to explore later, but we need to get you settled in right now."

Ada nodded slowly, stumbling a bit to keep up as they started walking towards the building. She continued staring around the massive yard. There were several older children outside, taking advantage of the weather to play or study beneath the trees. "Who're they?"

"Those are the last of the Colors," the man said, slowing his gait so Ada could keep in step. "You probably won't get to know many of them. Their program has ended, and most of them will be leaving the House within the next few months."

The girl nodded, resuming her knuckle-chewing. "Where're we going?"

"We need to meet with Roger and get you into a room. Come on, now; the sooner we've finished, the sooner you can have a look around."

~*~*~

Ten minutes later, Ada sat wriggling on a plastic chair. Roger, a man clearly younger than the one who'd brought her in but still quite ancient in her eyes, was sitting behind a desk, looking through some papers the other man had brought in with her. He glanced at Ada for a moment before turning to the other man. "Well, Quillsh, everything appears to be in order here. We should have no trouble getting her settled in." He straightened the papers out, setting them in the upper left corner of the desk, and turned to Ada. "You are One now. That is the name you shall answer to, and how you will introduce yourself to others. Ada was the girl you used to be, but you are not her any longer." Turning back to Quillsh, he said, "There are plenty of empty rooms in the east wing. Take her to pick one out, and let me know where she chooses to stay."

"The east wing, Roger? Are you quite sure that's best?" Quillsh asked.

Roger looked back at Quillsh for a moment, seeming rather puzzled. "Why wouldn't it be? There's room for more Numbers to stay when they arrive, and there are a few Colors still there, so she won't be alone."

"Teal stays in the east wing, Roger. Do you really want to have a child this young stay near her?"

"Teal will be leaving the House in a couple of months, and she isn't dangerous. I highly doubt anything too horrid will come of One seeing her for such a small amount of time. Besides, I'm sure they would see each other around the grounds, anyway," Roger responded, writing on a fresh piece of paper. "Now go help her get settled in, won't you?"

Quillsh nodded. "All right. Follow me, One," he said, lifting the girl's small suitcase from the floor.

"Oh, Quillsh?" The older man paused, glancing back into the room. "Don't forget you owe me dinner for helping you sort out the Numbers."

"You'll be working here before you know it, my friend," Quillsh said back with a slight smirk. Roger sighed, shaking his head and shooing the other two from the room.

After a few minutes of walking, One looked up curiously at Quillsh. "Who's Teal?" she asked, fingers finally dropped from her mouth.

Quillsh was quiet for a moment before answering. "You remember the children you saw outside earlier?" She nodded. "Well, Teal is one of them. She's a Color."

"Which one was she?"

The older man chuckled briefly. "I rather doubt you saw her. Teal doesn't think much of the outdoors. She prefers to stay inside, trying to spook the other children." At the look of worry on One's face, he smiled. "She is nicer to the younger children. I was just being a bit worrisome earlier. Don't bother yourself about it. Now, here we are," he said happily, gesturing to the rather long hallway they'd turned into. "You can pick any room you like, except for these two right here," he pointed to the closest doors, "and that one, fourth down on the left."

One quickly scampered down the hall, opening doors and peeking in before slamming them shut. After looking in each one, she sat down on the floor to think, humming quietly to herself. "I want this one," she said after a bit, opening the third door on the right from Quillsh. The girl happily ran into the room, jumping onto the bed and giggling at how squishy-comfy the mattress was.

Quillsh walked in after her, setting her suitcase down on top of a short dresser. "I'll help you unpack and get settled in," he said, opening the case. "Then you'll be free to explore until dinner. I've asked Red to show you around and keep you from getting lost. He should be here before long."

"Okay," One said, now bouncing on the bed. "Make sure my socks are on the left side of the top drawer, and my pajamas are on the right side. Shirts go in the middle drawer, and pants hang up in the closet. Leave the bottom drawer empty."

Quillsh chuckled again. "All right," he said, making sure to follow her instructions. A knock at the doorway caught his attention, and he turned to see a boy of around fifteen leaning against the wall. "Ah, hello Red. This is One," he said, motioning to the bouncing girl. One jumped off the bed, scampering over to look at the new arrival to her room.

"Your hair's really bright!" she said, staring at the crimson locks.

Red laughed. "That it is. A lot of us Colors decided to dye our hair when the program ended, so we wouldn't forget who we used to be after we leave. There's practically a rainbow living in the House right now. Would you like to see?" One nodded frantically, and Red laughed again, taking her hand. "Come on, then. We've only a couple hours left before dinner, so if you want to see much of anything, we'd best get started."

Quillsh smiled to himself as the two left the room. It was usually fairly easy to tell whether a child would be happy at Wammy's or not, and things were looking quite good for One thus far.

~*~*~

"The bathroom's through that door at the end of the hall. You're probably still young enough that somebody on staff'll give you baths. How old are you, anyway?" Red asked. One shyly held up a single hand, all five fingers outstretched. "Damn, and you're getting your own room already? They must really trust you to be a big girl, huh?"

"'Course I'm a big girl," One stated proudly. "Mummy said I was at my birthday, and that was a whole two months ago."

"Oh, really? So you just came here straight from home, huh?" the boy asked, and immediately wanted to smack himself. Asking the new arrivals about their pre-Wammy's lives was a sure thing to ruin a day.

But One just shook her head, still taking in her surroundings. "No. I been staying with my aunt for almost two whole weeks. I don't think she really liked me staying there too much, but she said I had to anyway. Mummy's been sick for a while, and she had to go away a couple weeks ago to get better. My aunt said she would be back soon, so I guess I'm just staying here 'til she comes back. Donno why I need a new name just to stay here for a while, though."

Ah. So she hadn't been told what had happened. Red supposed it did make some sense. If she was this young and she hadn't actually seen her parents go, the Powers That Be of the House would probably do what they could to try and keep her innocence intact a little longer. "Well, I'm sure you'll like it here, One. Do you like horses?"

The girl's eyes opened wide, and she stared up at Red. "Yeah. Do you got picture books of 'em? That's what I always had at home."

Red grinned. "Oh, I think I can do one better than books."

~*~*~

Out back, behind the House, One stared in wonder. A massive pen stretched across much of the yard, and there were horses everywhere inside it. Brown ones, black ones, spotted and speckled and absolutely everything she'd ever wanted in her short life. "They're so pretty," she whispered as Red set her on the fence. A large yellowish one came over, sniffing at the girl's face.

"I think she likes you," Red commented as the girl in his arms laughed.

"She matches my hair!" One squealed happily, rubbing the creature's nose. "What's her name?"

Red thought for a moment. "I'm not sure. The House just got some new ones, and I don't know that she has a name yet."

"It's Victoria."

One and Red both turned in the direction the voice had come from, and saw a rather pale girl walking towards them with a wicker basket filled with apples dangling from one hand. A long blond ponytail bounced on her back; the bottom three inches or so dyed a blueish color. She tossed one of the apples to Red, giving him a toothy grin. "She's a pretty good horse, I must say. Much better than the rest. Who's the kid?" she asked, pulling another apple from her basket and biting into it.

"This is One," Red answered, handing the apple to her so she could feed Victoria. "She just arrived earlier today."

"Well, hi there, One," the girl said, hopping up to sit on the fence. "I'm Teal." She then sat her basket down just inside the fence, and swung to hang from her knees. Red blushed furiously as the girl's shirt dropped down, just barely stopping before revealing her breasts. "Oh, what, Red? Still haven't seen a nice pair of tits?" Teal asked without even looking at the boy. "They're just flesh and fat, you know."

"Don't talk like that in front of a kid," Red hissed as his face continued trying to blend in with his hair.

Teal giggled, placing her hands in the grass and flipping into the horses' pen. "Fiiine," she sighed, running a hand down Victoria's neck. "Ryu doesn't care how I talk, y'know."

Red growled. "Ryu doesn't exist, Teal. Honestly; you're seventeen and you've still got an imaginary friend. That really isn't normal, you know."

The girl giggled again, leaning against the fence. "Well, maybe if some of the others around here would give me the time of day, I wouldn't need Ryu anymore."

"If you were a little less creepy, maybe someone would," Red barked, lifting One back to the ground. "C'mon, One. Let's go have a look around somewhere with less crazy."

"Okay," she murmured, staring back at the horses longingly. Glancing at Teal's basket, she realized Victoria must've been really hungry, because it was already empty. "Where'd she get all those apples from?"

"Probably nicked 'em from an orchard down the road. She does that from time to time. The cooks had to start locking the kitchen doors from how many she goes through. The horses are the only thing Teal ever comes outside for, and she feeds them all the time," Red answered. "What else would you like to see before dinner?"

One thought for a moment, pressing a rather chubby finger against her chin. "D'you have a library? I like reading to Mummy, so if I could find a new book for when I see her again, that'd be really great."

"We do indeed. I bet it's the biggest library in the world."

The girl squealed excitedly, and suddenly grabbed onto Red's shirt, pulling herself up onto his shoulders. "Let's go! I wanna see, I wanna see!"

Red laughed, hooking his arms under the girl's legs. "All right; here we go!" he cried, taking off at a run across the grounds.


	3. August 17, 1985

The first thing he's aware of is a bright white light. So so strong on small new eyes; making him scrunch his face in discomfort. Then a soft voice coos gently at him. He doesn't understand the words, but they sound kind and quiet. He blinks slowly, wrapped in a blanket and handed off to a woman with bright blond hair, a flash of bright blue at the tips just brushing her shoulders.

Everything here is bright, isn't it?

She smiles at him, and a noise across the room signals the departure of the one who'd wrapped him. "Hello, my baby," she murmurs, and while he still doesn't know what she's saying, it's a pleasant sound, and he likes the feel of her arms. She sighs happily, looking at nothing to her right. "Such dark hair. I suppose his father must be that Korean man I took out for drinks, hm, Ryu?"

He fights an arm free of the blanket, wrapping chubby fingers around a slender one; disappointed that her attention has turned away from him.

"Yes, yes; sweetling. I'm here." She smiles again, running a finger along his cheek. "You're rather cute, you know. Much more than I expected you to be. I wonder what other expectations you'll go beyond, hm?" A chuckle. "Maybe that's what I'll call you. Beyond." She turns back to the nothing at her right. "Ryu, I want to test something. What kind of behavioral patterns might emerge in a child that sees death from their earliest moments?" There's silence for a moment, then she giggles a sweet, musical giggle. "That's precisely what I want to do. This is something I've wondered about for years now, but it wouldn't be right for me to do that to someone else's child. Come on, now. I'm still young; I'll have plenty of time to watch him grow."

He almost thinks he can hear a raspy sort of chuckle from the nothing-to-her-right, but is quickly distracted by a slight discomfort in his eyes. He squeezes them shut, annoyed by the sensation, and starts to cry.


	4. November 25, 1983

**Warnings: Child abuse, accidental posting of a chapter on the same day that it's set on, haha.**

* * *

Lyle Lawliet yawned, stretching in his bed. He shivered a little as a chill ran through his room. Mummy must have left the door open again last night, so he slipped out of bed, wrapping his blanket around his shoulders like a warm cape, and padded out into the living room.

Sure enough, the door was swinging wide open, tapping against the wall; so Lyle reached a small hand up to close it before looking around the dirty apartment. Mummy was passed out on the couch, and the TV was gone. Lyle wasn't sure if she'd sold it, or if someone had snatched it in the night, but either way he didn't look forward to the moment she realized it was gone. He frowned, continuing through the apartment into their tiny kitchen.

An open box of leftover pizza was on the counter. Not as sweet as Lyle would have liked, but it would make an easier breakfast than dragging the Lucky Charms out of the cupboard, so the boy pulled a chair from the table so he could reach the greasy food.

He slid two slices onto a paper plate, and started back towards his bedroom. Maybe Sherlock Holmes could help him keep his mind off the unpleasant taste of tomato sauce and pepperoni. He paused at his door when he heard a shifting coming from the couch, followed by a low moan. Biting his lip, he hurried the rest of the way into his room, closing the door as quietly as he could, and hurried to curl up on the floor at the foot of his bed with the blanket pulled over his head.

Lyle sat in the darkness for a few seconds, hoping Mummy would just go back to sleep, or leave the house. Either would be fine with him as long as she just left him alone, and he quietly bit into his breakfast.

The couch squeaked loudly, and footsteps crossed the floor. "Lyle? Where's the damn TV?"

Lyle slid his pizza under the bed, wriggling after it. It was so dusty under there. The footsteps came closer to his door, and he quickly tugged his blanket under the bed as well. At the sound of his door opening, he squeezed his eyes shut, hoping maybe if he didn't look at her it would somehow calm her. "Lyle, you rotten little bastard! Answer me!" He curled into a ball, trying not to breath in the dust. The dust had betrayed him before, and it was likely to again. "Lyyyyle. Mummy's caaalling you!" She's trying to sound sweet now. This won't end well, he thought, curling his arms tighter around his legs.

The footsteps crossed his floor, going into the small bathroom across the room. "Are you in here?" With her that far, maybe he could slip out from under the bed without her noticing. The boy shifted a bit. It was worth a shot. He could get out, escape the house, and be free of her for the rest of his life. He shifted again, sliding towards the edge of the bed, and sucked in a lungful of dust. He immediately stopped, trying to hold in the coughs that had taken such a sudden residence in his throat, but they escaped, loud and painful, shaking his small frame and alerting the monster in the bathroom to his presence.

Quick footfalls were followed by a hand reaching under the bed, grabbing tight to a skinny wrist and pulling hard. "There you are, you little shit," his mother snarled, dragging Lyle from his small haven. "I had to sell the TV last night, and do you know why?" He was silent, staring at his feet. "Answer me!" A hand slapped him hard across the face, and he lifted his eyes, shaking his head. "I sold it because you are so fucking expensive!" The hand returned, turning his other cheek red and stinging across a still-healing bruise under his eye. "I need to feed you, I need to clothe you, I need to keep a roof over your damn head! And does your bastard father do anything to help? No! He just runs off to Jamaica with some 19-year-old whore! And it's your fault, do you understand me?" He was thrown across the room, back slamming into the wall.

Lyle looked up in terror as his mum crossed the room in a few large steps, and she grabbed his hair, pulling him to his feet. "You took my figure, you scared him into a commitment he wasn't ready to keep, you kept him up at night for a year and a half, you attracted the attention of the sluts at the park, and you scared the shit out of him when you quoted bloody Shakespeare at your second birthday party!" She slammed his head against the wall, shrieking in fury. "What kind of fucking toddler quotes Shakespeare?" she screamed, throwing him against the ground. Breathing heavily, she stared down at her child for a moment. "I need a drink." Footsteps crossed the floor, leaving his room, leaving the apartment, and going to the bar down the street where she was on a first-name basis with the bartender and could get free drinks for blow jobs. She took Lyle with her, once, and he doesn't care to remember it, even if he was still too young to understand just what his mother was using him for or what was happening in the bartender's lap.

After nearly a half hour of lying on the floor, Lyle pushed himself up. He crawled across his room to retrieve his pizza from under the bed, and pulled a notebook and pencil from his small bookshelf. He opened it to a page towards the middle, already filled with plans written shakily due to the poor motor skills of a four-year-old, and began to write.

~*~*~

When Julie Lawliet comes stumbling home that evening, having spent the entire day drinking and fucking, she doesn't expect a lone roller skate to be just inside the door. She doesn't expect to step on that skate, or to fall from it and slam her head into the doorknob. From there, she doesn't expect to shakily stand back up, and slip on the laundry detergent that's been poured across the wood of the living room floor. She doesn't expect to slam forwards, crashing face-first into the nails that have been pried from bedroom floorboards and scattered just past the detergent. She doesn't expect to rise, screeching in pain, and stumble into the bathroom for the first-aid kit. She doesn't expect to trip over the string that's been stretched across the doorway, or to fall into the full bathtub. She doesn't expect the toaster to be in the bathroom, plugged in and set to drop into that same bathtub moments after the string in the doorway is pulled. She doesn't expect dying of electrocution, bleeding from her face and the back of her head, to be so painful. She doesn't expect any of what comes to her that evening.

A small, pale shadow, lurking in the bedroom doorway, expects all of it, and slips out the door she left open again into the night.


	5. August 17, 1985 2

Not an hour after Beyond Birthday's mother has given him Shinigami eyes, a ten-year-old boy with dusty blond hair waits down the hall outside his mother's room. Starting today, he's going to be a big brother, and his mum and dad are in there right now, getting his new baby brother out and ready to face the world. Marcus Andrews grins happily, tapping a foot against the wall. His parents had gone out early that morning, and Mrs. Jenkins from next door had come to watch him until it was closer to the baby's arrival time. Marcus had tried to get his parents to agree to name his brother Tardis, but they just smiled and said they'd been thinking something more along the lines of Arthur. Oh, well. As long as his parents will let Arthur watch TV with him, he'll be happy.

A sudden noise comes from the room, and Marcus turns to the door. The door swings open and his father comes out, looking absolutely distraught. Mrs. Jenkins rushes over, speaking quietly with him. Marcus peers through the door that was left slightly ajar, and sees the doctor who'd gotten his brother. He can see a nurse holding a wailing blue blanket, and his mum in the bed across the room. A loud, constant beeping noise is coming from her bed, and the doctor has those funny metal panels that Marcus has seen on TV. There's a loud crackling and the beeping stops for a moment before resuming just as loud and frightening as it had been before. The doctor shocks Marcus's mum again, and Marcus turns to his dad for assurance that his mum will be okay.

His dad is crying silently, and Marcus doesn't think his mum will be okay. Mrs. Jenkins realizes the door is open, and pulls the boy away, hiding his face in her side.


End file.
